


With a Dark Purpose

by SoundandColor



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hypnotism, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Mental Coercion, Mind Control, Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-20 22:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundandColor/pseuds/SoundandColor
Summary: He's finally winning.He's finally won.





	With a Dark Purpose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanwenmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanwenmc/gifts).



After years of planning, demeaning himself for that fool sultan, struggling to get his hands on the lamp… Jafar watches as the dome carrying the troublesome urchin disappears into the far distance with a splash of fireworks.

 

He’s finally winning. _He’s finally won_.

 

The taste of victory is overpowering. He lets himself sink into it, getting drunk on his own glory, on their shame. Then Jafar squeezes his hands into fists, takes a deep cleansing breath and pushes it aside. He didn’t make it here by ignoring the details, and there’s still one matter left to attend to.

 

The Genie.

 

He’s a threat to everything. Everything Jafar has earned. Everything he’s always deserved. “For my final wish,” Jafar intones deeply, turning to face his stunned audience. “I want to be the last master to ever command you.”

 

He sees a flicker of hope in the blue abomination’s eyes before he, rather astutely, thinks better of it. “You’re not allowed to hold me forever.”

 

“I won’t have to, the lamp will.” Jafar smiles at his own cleverness. “I wish for you to be more than its slave—you will be its captive. I want you contained within it for all eternity.”

 

“Genie!” Jasmine yells, pulling uselessly against her shackles.

 

“Aw, Princess,” he says to her with fake cheer. "I didn’t know you cared.”

 

“Fight him!” She pulls even harder against her bonds, eyes wild. " _Please_."

 

The Genie bends down next to her and stills her movements before gently touching the manacle Jafar placed on her ankle. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, kid,” he mutters lowly. His smile now is genuine, if sad. "Really, I am." With that, he steps away and looks back at Jafar, stone-faced and resigned. Truly beaten. “Your wish is my command.”

 

“No!”

 

He barely hears her shout as a swirl of smoke snakes its way out of the lamp and wraps around the genie, stronger than any chain. Than any curse. It floats thickly across the floor, obscuring Jafar’s view, and when it clears, the Genie is gone.

 

Jafar steps out onto the balcony, kicking the lamp to the side as he goes. It’s useless now to him now, and there is still much to do. He grabs hold of the railing to ground himself, looks out over the horizon and imagines the boundaries of his land. He visualizes a wall bursting upward and reaching downward through the sand. Something thick, grey and impenetrable. Something that blots out the sun. Seeing it appear before him isn’t necessary, but he watches for it with a sideways glance anyway. He’s busy weaving the incantation in sparkling gold thread and placing it in the back of his mind where it will always repeat, where it will grow stronger. He stretches, reveling in the exhaustion he feels for the first time tonight.

 

Even as the greatest sorcerer alive, he still appreciates the effort it takes to cast an elegant spell.

 

“You won’t win,” Jasmine says from the floor near his throne where he left her. Her voice pulls him from back to the present and he turns away from the view of his kingdom. Chained, brought low, her chin held high. Defiant until the very end. Jafar smiles. This woman will be his queen.

 

“But I already have.”

 

She narrows her eyes as he walks toward her, offers her his hand for the second time. When Jasmine turns away, Jafar sighs. She’s making things more difficult than they need to be. He could easily use his staff to force her biddability, but a part of him wants her to choose to yield. Wants her to step out onto the balcony and accept his proposal publicly. It would legitimize his reign for those who may scheme for the previous sultan's return. Being as powerful as Jafar is, he needn't worry about such incidental things as his proper claim to the throne, but he wants it anyway, and he’ll have it. One way or another.

 

He stares at her back, the slope of neck.  “As you wish, Princess.”

 

Jafar throws the former sultan into the dungeons and halts all trading caravans early the next morning. No people, no oil for lamps, no cloth and no food are allowed into or out of the city. Watching from the safety of the palace, chaos descends sooner than he could have ever imagined. The screams go on all night.

 

“How can you allow this?” she demands, practically shaking with rage. “The people—” she takes a breath, then turns toward him and lowers her voice, pleading. “ _Your_ people need you.”

 

He simply raises his brows and takes a sip of sweet wine from his glass.

 

She groans and cuts her eyes at him, crosses her arms over her chest and looks back over the city as he steps forward and leans against the railing beside her. Jafar sighs at the anarchy below.

 

It pains him to watch Agrabah burn, but burn it must.

 

Through it all, she does not bend to his will until he allows her into the dungeons to see her father, starving and wretched. Afterward, he has no need to ask for her hand thrice. She walks out to greet the public at his side and offers it willingly.

 

\---

 

It’s harder to kill a rat than it would seem.

 

Jafar can’t say he’s shocked when Iago reports sighting Aladdin and the ridiculous monkey sniffing along the outside of their barrier wall on a nightly basis, using that infernal carpet to try and scale his defenses. He’s only surprised it took so long for him to make his way back. It’s been weeks since Jafar sent him on his way.

 

His first instinct is to do away with him permanently. The boy is a dangerous nuisance and with a flick of his finger, with a single thought, Jafar could obliterate him without ever having to lay eyes on the vile creature ever again. He almost does. He comes so close he can feel the words sparking to life, beginning to gather strength and write themselves. Then he thinks better of it.

 

Death is a mercy Aladdin has not earned.

 

Not yet, anyway.

 

Jafar waves Iago off and grins, then laughs out loud, the sound echoing strangely in his empty throne room. This time, when Aladdin comes to the barrier, Jafar will make sure to leave a small section open. He’s positive the urchin will take the bait.

 

A rat never learns.

 

\---

 

When Aladdin hops the gate into the royal gardens after convincing his rug and monkey to stay behind at the barrier wall, Jafar is waiting for him. A simple cloaking spell keeps him in the shadows while the thief slinks toward the palace. Jafar can grudgingly admit to himself that he’s good at his chosen profession. He isn’t sure he would have spotted the boy if he hadn’t been prepared for his appearance. It’s no matter either way, he has the upper hand and Aladdin is well within his grasp. He can afford to let this play out.

 

The boy runs along a low wall, his eyes passing over a small cage, before he stops, takes a second look and leans closer. “Rajah?” The animal meows loudly and reaches a paw through the bars.

 

“What did he do to you?” Aladdin whispers indignantly, catching its paw and trying to soothe the feeble animal. The kitten chuffs pathetically before suddenly showing its teeth, its growls too sweet to be threatening, and runs at the bars to Aladdin’s side where Jafar looks on.

 

He turns quickly, eyes darting across the empty garden at his back. Jafar knows he cannot be seen, but the boy is uneasy now. He backs away from the cage. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

 

Rajah mewls after him loudly to no avail, Aladdin is already moving toward the palace and doesn’t hear. Jafar walks by the cage and tsks as the kitten snaps his jaws. If he had more time, the insolent creature would pay for that, but Jafar has more important things on his mind.

 

He stands back to watch as Aladdin climbs the steps to the the open-air throne room and Jafar knows the instant he spots the girl. His body goes rigid, and he sucks in a deep breath and holds it as he stares forward. Jafar is not close enough to look over the boy’s shoulder, but he doesn’t have to. He can imagine the scene clearly enough.

 

There in the dim light of the moon, up on a dais at the foot of his throne, Jasmine sleeps on a plush, fur-lined mat. He simply gazes at her before looking over his shoulder and slipping into the palace. “Jasmine?” he whispers. Jafar silently walks into the room behind him. Though he’s called out to her, she doesn’t move or show any outward indication that she’s aware either of them is there.

 

“Princess?”

 

Jafar lets the spell fall from his shoulders, revealing himself to the room though Aladdin does not yet see him at his back. He takes the measure of the boy for a moment, then opens his mouth and makes himself known.

 

“My queen.”

 

The little thief moves quickly to put his back against a wall, searching the room for his old enemy. “Jafar!”

 

The older man ignores him, too busy watching Jasmine rise. It’s a curious thing, seeing her heed his call from the depths of slumber. Her body moves without her mind’s permission as if she were hooked to tethers. With unnaturally jerky and sharp movements, she clumsily gets to her feet, nothing but a dark shape in the night. Then Jafar snaps his fingers, lighting every candle in the room and her step turns into the fluid strut he prefers. He still finds the shift in her gait jarring after all these weeks together.

 

The boy does too, his mouth hangs open in shock, or maybe something else. “Jasmine!” the street rat yells. He starts to move forward before he hesitates, watching her with horror, and through his gaze, Jafar sees her with fresh eyes. Covered only in a gossamer red brassiere and flowing pants, her silken skin is oiled each morning by a servant girl of his choosing. Her almond eyes, wide and empty. Her hands, delicate and still unless he wills them otherwise. She only stops her descent from the dais when the chain at her ankle goes taut and allows her no further. She’s close enough now to see her eyes though, and Aladdin turns on him angrily at the swirling void he finds there. “What have you done?”

 

When the boy moves toward him threateningly, Jafar throws his arm wide and sends him against the wall, manacles appearing at his feet and wrists. He walks up to his throne gracefully, placing Jasmine comfortably at his feet. He doesn’t need chains to force her submission, but he keeps her shackled for the pleasure it gives him to see the manacle rubbing her skin raw. He watches Aladdin struggle angrily against his own bonds and licks his lips.

 

Under the tattered clothes and dirty face, there’s always been something about the urchin. Something base and uncouth yet attractive all the same. He runs his fingers through Jasmine’s ponytail thoughtlessly. Having them both back under his thumb is creating a stronger effect than he anticipated. It calls for a hastening of plans. Jafar holds out his arm and calls his staff to him. He should put Aladdin under now, but he wants the boy to have his wits about him when he shows him one of Jasmine’s new tricks. He feels his cock rising as he moves two fingers on his left hand, causing the scepter to rise and present its ornamental head to her. She’s been trained well. Without a question or a look, Jasmine moves down the dais so he can see her clearly and rolls onto her back, languid and sweet, to open her mouth and receive it.

 

His gaze darts to the wall Aladdin is chained to as he flattens his hand, causing the head to press against her lips and she takes it eagerly, just as he taught her to in those early days. Her tongue is already peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she works it deeper, teasing both of the men watching her. She lathes the head, swallows thickly, then bends her neck further back to try and take more. He moves the staff only slightly, letting her do most of the work and watching her lips stretch wide to accommodate where the snake’s hood begins to flare out.

 

He feels a pulse low in his gut at her easy acquiescence, at the way she runs her hands over pert breasts, trim waist and down sweetly curved hips before parting her legs and spreading herself wide. Even Aladdin’s cries have quieted down at her show. She’s hypnotizing, casts spells without the aid of sorcery.

 

The shadowy glint of life he’s sure he sometimes catches in her gaze says she knows it.

 

He vows to never, _ever_ , forget.

 

Impassively, Jafar pushes the snake head too deeply down her throat. Jasmine’s reaction is immediate and deeply satisfying. She gasps, then wretches. Coughs and works her throat to try and clear it. All the while, the hands between her thighs never stop moving and she doesn’t try to push him away. Jasmine’s face, though red and sputtering, is still the calm and serene mask he wills it to be.

 

“Leave her alone!” the urchin yells, struggling anew against chains he’ll never be equipped to break. “Get away from her!”

 

Jafar ignores him. Watches Jasmine begin to go pale as she chokes at his feet, and only pulls the staff back when he decides he wants to. She lies before him, fighting to take a breath and waiting for her next orders.

 

“Come here, girl.”

 

She stands before he can finish his sentence and kneels at his side, eyes downcast.

 

“Stop it, Jafar!” the boy yells when he takes Jasmine’s chin in his hand and raises her face to his own. “Do whatever you want to me, but let her go!”

 

“I’ll do whatever I want to the both of you,” Jafar responds matter of factly, taking his staff in hand and telling her to look into its eyes. There’s really no need for him to put her under again, she’s so deep he’s not sure she’d come out of thrall even upon his unlikely death. He does it for the boy’s benefit, to show him the breadth of Jafar’s power. To make sure he knows everything about to happen is only due to Jafar's will.

 

He stands and pulls her to her feet beside him, waving away the chain that holds her as they descend from the throne, slowing walking toward his new slave. When Jafar stops in front of him, he pulls Jasmine back against his chest and whispers, “Show him what I’ve taught you, pussycat.”

 

His wish is her command.

 

Jasmine glides out of his embrace and drops to her knees in a single movement. Aladdin stiffens at her proximity and when she reaches for him, real fear covers his face.

 

“You don’t have to listen to him, he says lowly. "You don't have to do this,” but Jasmine only heeds instructions from her master and he’s not yet ready to end the game. She runs her cheek against the front of his lovers pants and pulls the garment from his waist. He tenses, but she has not a care for his modesty, letting the clothing fall to his feet, freeing his cock to the room. Jafar can hear his shaky breaths when she slides her palms up his thighs and under his purple vest.

 

“Stop this!" His pleading eyes meet Jafar's, begging for respite. "Make her stop!”

 

He simply crosses his arms over his chest, caresses his goatee and looks on.

 

She teases him first. Dragging blunt nails gently across the skin of his stomach. Running her lips across his knee, placing a dry kiss on his inner thigh. He's breathing hard, but completely soft when she begins working on him in earnest. Jasmine takes advantage of that, fitting the entirety of his shaft into her mouth. She keeps him there for a moment, her nose pressed flush against his pubic bone, her tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth as she hums against him. She holds onto his hip with one hand, reaches back between his legs with the other and the look on his face almost makes Jafar want to chuckle. He can only imagine what those clever fingers of hers are getting up to just out of his sight. The boy has gone completely silent now, gobsmacked. Absolutely astonished by what's happening.

 

And this is only the start of it.

 

She lets her jaw slacken, allowing him even deeper into her throat and Aladdin can say he doesn’t want any part of this all he likes, but the body never lies. His cock is filing out nicely. Growing heavy and thick enough that Jasmine has to work to accommodate him. After a pull or two more on his stiffening member, she can no longer fit all of him in her mouth and begins working the root with her hands. The sound is obscene, wet and perfect. She focuses on the head, works her tongue against the spot under the cap he taught her to treat with the utmost care and the boy’s eyes have gone glassy, low moans crawl up from his gut and out of his mouth without permission. He’s too far gone to worry about that now. Not propriety, not having an audience, not morality, nothing will stop him. _Nothing_. He’s staring down into that empty gaze of hers, rocking his hips into those glossy lips and whispering, _nononono_ , but Jafar knows better.

 

When she takes him deep and swallows around his shaft… Aladdin is no match. He comes with a low-pitched groan, his eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched into fists, sagging forward against his bonds. It’s not enough to make her stop. She takes him deeply again once, twice, his seed glistening at the corners of her mouth and dripping down her chin, before letting him free with a gasping sound that makes Jafar want to use her throat next. _Later_. He moves forward, lays his hand on Jasmine’s shoulder and watches his captive catch his breath.

 

The boy is on his knees too, now. Head hanging down, his arms pulled painfully taut over his head and displaying every muscle to its best advantage. His shaft is dark and wet against his thigh. Jafar has never before ordered her to give that particular attention to another man and looking at the rat now, he feels a little more desperate for some attention himself. When Aladdin finally looks up, Jafar expects to see shame in his eyes, but he meets the sorcerer's gaze head-on. “You’re a monster,” he hisses.

 

“Do you mean to say that wasn’t pleasurable for you?” Jafar beckons Jasmine to stand, magics a damp cloth from thin air and wipes his queen’s face. “I wouldn’t call you a liar,” he smirks at his own joke, “but there’s _some_ evidence to the contrary.”

 

A lock of hair hangs in her face, and Jafar combs it back up into her high ponytail with his fingers, grasps her forearms and takes a step back to admire her. She truly is a magnificent prize. When he looks back down at the boy, a deep well of sadness has taken the place of his fury at the sight of his love and his enemy embracing.

 

“Jasmine?” he calls until she somehow tears her gaze away from her master’s. He smiles sadly at the whirling abyss in her eyes. “I love you.”

 

Jafar is not concerned that such a declaration could have the power to break his hold on the girl, but when she turns back to him, he feels the slightest ripple of unease at the hint of a frown now marring her perfect features. That she was able to look away from him at all. Separately, they are no threat, but together... He'll need to watch them closely. Getting rid of one or the other is not an option. He reaches down and takes hold of the boys jaw roughly, imagining the way the bruises that bloom there will look tomorrow and admiring the fall of the urchin’s hair when he he fights against his grasp. The sorcerer smiles at that, all teeth, “Keep your eyes here, boy.” He waits until the rat complies, moves his robes aside with an elegant gesture of the fingers and finally frees his straining cock.  

 

“No,” Aladdin mutters, eyes darting around the room, frantically searching for an escape as he pulls against Jafar’s hold. “Get away from me!”

 

He only grins and moves closer, but doesn’t yet let himself answer the alluring call of the thief's mouth. The first time he allowed Jasmine to pleasure him, he put her under the lightest hypnosis possible, wanting to preserve as much of the spark he sees mirrored in her lover as he could. Jafar can admit to himself now that it had been an inadvisable decision. Even with his powers, he’d needed a full week to heal, and the lengthy and severe punishment he’d visited upon her lost them just under a month of training. It was a punishment for himself as well. Taking her to pieces, waiting so long before making her whole and beautiful once again.

 

“You can't do this!” the boy’s renewed struggles bring him back to the present. “You can’t make us do this!”

 

“Have you forgotten, you worthless filth?” Jafar very nearly screams, before pulling himself back. His new station does not allow for such displays of emotion. He must rise to the challenges of his crown, not sink to this creatures depths. “I am sultan,” he finally intones, calm now. “You placed yourself under my generous rule when you snuck onto these lands.” He sighs at that, the urchin's backtalk has grown tiresome. Jafar clears his mind, imagining a sparkling needle and thread pulling and looping back over itself across the boy’s vocal cords. Once he's finished, he places the spell into the back of his mind feeling the words slip against one another like snakes. The sound of chains rattling strongly pulls his mind back to the present and when he looks down, Aladdin’s eyes are wide with agony. He opens his mouth, but no words tumble forth. Jafar smiles at the pain and hatred writ large across the boy’s face and leans in close. “This is but one act I expect of my loyal subjects.”

 

He stands tall, “Jasmine.” She’s at attention in an instant, her lips still full and cheeks prettily flushed from her prior task. He steps forward and watches the boy flinch away. He usually prefers to train his slaves in the carnal arts _slowly_. He taught Jasmine in such a away. Not so much to spare her pain, but for the simple pleasure of stretching her to accommodate him, of watching her learn to take every inch. He would normally afford this new slave the same opportunity, but Jafar is in no mood to take it easy tonight. Seeing the two of them together, finally bringing his last enemy to their knees...

 

Aladdin’s training will be a treat, but this will take the edge off his desire.

 

He calls his staff and holds it out. “Look into its eyes.” Aladdin does the exact opposite, of course, screwing them shut and turning away. Jafar bends close. He could force this, but much like winning Jasmine’s hand, he wants the urchin to give his independence away freely.

 

“When your friends come after you, which they will,” he says casually, “I’ll be waiting for them just as I was waiting for you.”

 

Aladdin doesn’t move, but he’s listening.

 

“Maybe I’ll turn that bothersome rug into a ball of yarn or make that flea-ridden monkey of yours into nothing but a mechanical toy to wind up for my own amusement. Maybe I’ll call the guard and have our lovely Jasmine service each and every one of them. I didn’t know how entertaining that could be until tonight.”

 

Aladdin swallows and Jafar goes on.

 

“Who do you think left the opening in the wall for you? Do you really believe any of this was an accident? You’ve destroyed them. Everyone you’ve ever known or loved.” He watches the boy for a moment. “Then again, maybe you can keep me entertained enough to not bother with any of that.” He shrugs delicately and stands tall. “Maybe.”

 

Aladdin opens his eyes and turns to Jafar, nearly incandescent with anger. More beautiful than he’s ever seen him. He thinks of leaving him in the cave of wonders after promising him endless wealth. He thinks of the previous sultan rotting in the dungeons below. He thinks, _they truly never learn,_ and feels something akin to pity _._ He holds out the staff and Aladdin spits on his robes. One last act of defiance. Jafar simply pulls out a handkerchief and wipes it away. He’s always admired their fire, but as Jafar thinks ahead to his future, to _their_ future together, he knows Jasmine and Aladdin's placid devotion will do just as well.

 

“Look into its eyes…”

 

The change is immediate.

 

Everything that made Aladdin _Aladdin_ , gone in an instant and replaced by a spiraling nothingness. Jafar breathes deeply, excited by the boy’s vacant stare and reaches down. His left palm easily spanning the back of Aladdin’s skull as he grabs a handful of hair and pulls tight, then tighter. The boy doesn't make a noise, doesn't try and fight the sorcerer's hold. Jafar moves his hand to Aladdin's jaw and runs his thumb along the boy's plump lower lip as he calls Jasmine to his side. He doesn’t need to say what he wants. She licks her palm and gives him two swift pulls just this side of too rough, then leans into his side, seeking out her masters affection and warmth. He hugs her closer and looks down with a smile as she slides his shaft into her lover’s mouth.

 

He begins to thrust in earnest. No warm-up, no moment to savor the sensation. He goes in with sharp, concentrated movements that knock the boys head into the wall behind him, going deeper than Jafar imagined he would be able to this soon without causing the boy to make a mess of his robes. The urchin who caused him so much trouble, who almost destroyed everything, but gave him the keys to his kingdom in the end... Jafar has his cock down his throat and his woman on his arm and the entire world at his feet.

 

“I think,” he says with a grin, beginning to move his hips with more force to truly rut into Aladdin’s mouth, “that your betrothed may have more practice at this then he led us to believe.” She doesn’t respond, but he didn’t expect her to. He plucks Jasmine’s hard nipple with his free hand, then dips his fingers between her thighs and lets himself enjoy the easy glide. He focuses on the man at his feet, the struggle for breath when Jafar pulls free, the liquid clicking sound when Jafar hits the back of his throat. _Utterly enchanting_.

 

If he weren’t under, Aladdin would be fighting him. He’d have to force him to choke down his member. The idea sends a shiver of interest through him. _Hmmmm_ , but no. Jafar has learned his lesson. Instead, Aladdin is opening his mouth wider and drooling down the sides of Jafar’s cock. The sorcerer is barely able to hold back a groan at the sight of it. He leans forward and lays his palm on the wall at his new slave's back. “Open,” Jafar orders and the boy makes every effort to comply even though he’s already stuffed full. Of course he does.

 

Jafar’s wish is now Aladdin’s command.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the beta, withinadream!


End file.
